


when you believe

by ikanaru (orphan_account)



Series: yamaguchi week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Yamaguchi Week 2K15, honestly just, karasuno first years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ikanaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>four instances of happy for yamaguchi</em>
</p><p> </p><p>yamaguchi week day four: jumpfloat / victory</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you believe

.

_first year, summer_

it happens during a practice game at the tokyo training camp. 

‘hm,’ goes coach ukai thoughtfully. he shouts down the bench past sugawara and kinoshita, who wince at the sheer volume of his voice, ‘yamaguchi, try serving next.’

fukurodani’s ahead nine points, when a whistle’s shrill pierces the charged air, and yamaguchi stands at the edge of the court, an eleven quivering in his hand.

tsukki brushes past him, taking his number with a silent touch of fingers, and there’s a ‘don’t mess up’ directed over the shoulder in his general direction.

a ball’s tossed over to yamaguchi, and there’s a pit of panic somewhere in his stomach, small but insistent, and a voice tucked into the deepest corner of his mind, whispering of every mistake he’s ever made, gnawing at him with the reminder of the latest failure during the seijou match, _he’s going to miss_ \- the panic in his stomach stirs with interest and jolts - he’s going to bring the team down again - the ball in his hand drops to the ground - 

‘you can do it, yamaguchi-kun!’ 

from the sidelines comes a cry, high and wavering, and when yamaguchi looks over, the first thing he sees is blond hair, sun-brightened and curling around small, hunched shoulders, a star barrette pressed into the side of a cornsilk ponytail, winking its cheerful light back at him.

yachi, paling then colouring furiously with the sudden attention, sucks in a visible breath and plows on. cupping her hands around her mouth, she squeaks out a ‘do your best!’ and promptly smacks her face down into her hands, squirming with embarrassment.

yamaguchi serves.

 

‘yes!’

and a point goes to karasuno.

 

.

 

_second year, winter_

when yamaguchi wakes up, it’s still dark outside his window. he brushes his teeth with the first sign of light, gets dressed as the stars wash away into the oncoming dawn, and is closing the door with a soft click just as the sun pokes a rosy head over the frozen horizon.

an iced wind blows; he shivers and tucks the woolen ends of his scarf into his jacket. breathes in and out, watching steam curl away from him in billowing clouds, and digs his hands deeper into the warm depths of his pockets.

yamaguchi rounds the corner, hears the impact of soft leather on skin, muffled shouts and commands, artificial light spilling from a sliver in the doorway. he reaches for the handle with frigid fingers, only for the door to slide fully open.

he looks up to find kageyama, covered in a light sheen of sweat already, standing in the doorway. their cast shadows seep and lengthen behind him. ‘hey, kageyama,’ he says.

kageyama says nothing, though his mouth twitches like something’s trying to get loose. behind him, hinata calls out, ‘close the door, will you? it’s freezing’ and only at that, does kageyama react, stepping backwards and wordlessly grabbing yamaguchi’s jacket, dragging him into the gym.

‘um,’ says kageyama, shifting uncomfortably. he looks at a spot somewhere over yamaguchi’s shoulder, crushes a water bottle into his palm, the plastic warping, and grinds out, ‘willyouteachmehowtodoafloatserve’ in one breath, the words crowded in his mouth, elbowing each other for room.

yamaguchi’s already smiling, and he presses a hand to his mouth, laughs loud, ‘of course,’ feels like happiness is seeping through the gaps between his fingers, bubbling and drifting skywards, and the gym ceiling is nowhere high enough to contain it all.

 

.

 

_third year, spring_

the table’s cool underneath yamaguchi’s cheek. he fingers the rough, wood-grain edge of it, tilts his head to stare at the sky outside, soft and pastel hued, and lets out a sigh that starts in the depths of his stomach, stoppers somewhere in his throat.

‘yamaguchi?’ hinata’s voice is soft, for once, brushing at his shoulder comfortingly. yamaguchi lifts his head up and finds the other boy standing in the doorway, halfway between being inside and outside. he’s still wearing his uniform, sweat-stained and tear-soaked as it is.

yamaguchi turns away. ‘s-stop,’ he mutters into his shoulder, ‘you don’t have to be here, you know. the others are probably waiting for you.’

the sound of footsteps, the whine of metal joints as hinata pulls a chair out and plops down opposite to him. he props his elbows up and leans forward, effectively removing the desk as a barrier between them. ‘what about you?’

yamaguchi sighs and wonders if it’s too late to teach hinata the concept of _personal space_. ‘i’ll be fine here,’ he says, and tries not to meet hinata’s eyes.

hinata hums, reaches out and takes hold of yamaguchi’s chin. ‘up,’ he tells him firmly, but his touch are gentle. ‘good game today,’ and he pokes his fingers into yamaguchi’s cheeks, lifting them up into a smile.

‘it was okay,’ yamaguchi shrugs, hinata’s fingers still pushing him into a smile.

‘okay?’ hinata’s hands drop down to the table and still. ‘yamaguchi,’ he stands up, pushing his chair back in a messy screech of metal on wood. yamaguchi stares down at his own folded hands, afraid to look up, knowing what’s coming.

‘yamaguchi,’ hinata says again, stepping closer to him, and he tries not to flinch away, ‘you were amazing!’ hinata thumps his back, grinning, and then pulls him close in a hug. ‘if we didn’t have you - ’ hinata laughs, all happy tones ringing loud in the room, ‘ - i don’t know what we would have done. you got the most points out of the four of us.’

yamaguchi feels the beginnings of tears sting his eyes; he wraps his hands around hinata’s shoulders and holds tight, head resting on hinata’s shoulder - ah, he thinks, hinata’s gotten taller - hinata continues, rubbing his back in small, jerky circles, ‘s-so thank you for your hard work, we couldn’t have won without you,’ his voice breaks down somewhere in the middle of the sentence, and they’re both thinking about old games and old teammates, about seasons that will never repeat themselves, remembering that they will never play together like this again.

‘well,’ says hinata after, wiping tears away from his face, flicking them from his fingers, ‘let’s go find the others,’ and he grins.

yamaguchi looks down at the glistening remnants of his own tears on hinata’s shirt, feels the strange air around them lift, sets his mouth into a smile, ‘let’s.’

 

.

 

_third year, spring_

‘yamaguchi.’

he pauses, midstep, and turns around. squinting against the glare of the sun, he finds tsukki in the crowd, first his blond head then followed by the rest of him.

ahead, the first years are already boarding the bus. kageyama calls out a ‘hurry up,’ and goes back to bending over a clipboard with yachi.

‘hurry up, tsukki,’ he echoes, and when tsukki stops walking, runs, pushing through the crowd to get to him. his gym bag thumps at his side, his water bottle swishing in time to his steps.

‘what are you doing?’ he says when he gets to tsukki. sucking in a breath, fingers scrabbling at the strap on his chest, he has to ask, ‘is something wrong?’

there’s a constipated look on tsukki’s face, like he bit into a lemon and is too far in the process of swallowing to spit it back out. he pushes his glasses up his nose, taps his feet, fingers the curve of the headphones slung around his neck. ‘...good job,’ he finally mumbles, and yamaguchi waits patiently for more to come. ‘all that practice really worked.’

tsukki slips his headphones over his ears, hair hiding trembling fingers, but yamaguchi notices anyway. muffled tinny guitar sounds from the headphones; yamaguchi says, loud enough for people to stop and stare, ‘thanks, tsukki!’ and when tsukki colours an alarming shade of red, he knows he’s heard.

.

 

.

 

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> give me more gen karasuno first years, they're just _so good_


End file.
